What A Gentleman Wants Read Online Free PDF Page A

discovered Willy would leave him in peace if he sat in the sun and closed his eyes. The day after he sat there because it was too dark to read in the parlor, the day after that because it was too hot indoors, and the next because Mrs. Preston was cleaning the parlor.
    His hostess was a very industrious woman. Just watching her made David faintly ill. While he sat among her roses and herbs, she baked bread, knitted socks, tended the garden, read stories to her daughter, mopped, scrubbed, washed, and mended until David thought she would drop. It was fascinating to him; women of his class never did half those things. Aside from the horse-mad Willy, though, there was no one else to do things, so he supposed she had no choice. The amazing thing was, she didn’t seem to mind.
    Of course, David hadn’t seen any other damn thing to do in this village, since Percy had deserted him. The first few days he had thought he would literally di of boredom, but now he was beginning to see some attractions in the place. Except for the work, of course.
    The air was fresh. The nights were quiet. The food was plain, but delicious and fresh. The garden was undeniably peaceful, just like Mrs. Preston herself. She was the first woman David had ever known who could sit beside another person and not speak. Today she sat on the bench opposite him, quietly, peacefully, sewing. Not nagging or chattering or complaining, just minding her own business. It made him want to talk to her.
    “Do you do everything yourself?” She looked up, not surprised or pleased, but thoughtful. “About the house, I mean.”
    “My brothers help with any repairs, and my sisters-in-law come to help at times. Other than that, yes.”
    That must be quite a burden for a woman alone.“
    Her fingers paused over her sewing. “My husband died only six months ago.” She forced a smile. “The work isn’t so bad.”
    David cast about for something to say. She still wore black sometimes, and gray when not. It was a pity, he thought, for she was an attractive woman, and couldn’t be very old. “On the contrary, I think it must be very hard at times.”
    Her eyes sparkled with teasing. “Do you mean the work, or living in Middleborough?” He knew he looked guilty from her laugh. “You mustn’t be too hard on Middleborough, sir. It may not have the entertainments of London, but life in the country can be very wholesome and refreshing. In just a week, you’ve gained some very healthy color in your face.”
    “Yes, the sun doesn’t seem to shine as often in the city.” David squinted at the sky, realizing that she was right. Middleborough was growing on him: the spare furnishings of the house, the fresh breeze that blew through the garden, the absolute silence that left a man no choice but to examine his own thoughts. David hadn’t indulged in such introspection in years, perhaps never, and while it might have been the influence of living in the vicarage, he began to feel as though he should let the fresh air into his life as well.
    He knew he was an irresponsible rogue—his brother had been telling him so for years, and Marcus was never wrong about anything—but David had never regretted a thing until now. Perhaps this was the turning point in his life, the crossroads he had been galloping toward. Perhaps being marooned in a vicarage was his chance at redemption.
    Mrs. Preston went into the kitchen to tend to her bread. David watched her go, thinking that he wouldn’t mind absorbing some of her calm self-possession. He could never picture her worked up into a fury over something like being outbid on a horse, nor racing down a dirt road and breaking her leg. Everything she did seemed to have a reason, a purpose. His moment-to-moment existence began to seem, at that moment, a trifle pointless.
    For the first time, David began to consider the possibility that the broken carriage wheel was a blessing after all.
    “Why are you moving house?”
    Hannah looked up in surprise